


Yamaguchi Tadashi: Healer

by CloudMonsta



Series: Vball Babs: Origins [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins, Haikyuu!!
Genre: (including himself), Childhood Friends, Dragon Age AU, Flashbacks, Gen, Mages, Mages and Templars, Origin Story, Reunions, in which yamaguchi tadashi is more than anybody bargained for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6422446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudMonsta/pseuds/CloudMonsta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamaguchi Tadashi has led a tumultuous life, to put it lightly. Stability is fleeting, and so are friends. But maybe, if he's lucky, one in particular will stick...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yamaguchi Tadashi: Healer

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the long wait, everyone! I was swamped with finals, and then had a lot of due dates during spring break that attacked. But I'm back now, and better than ever! I hope you all enjoy this rather lengthy Yamaguchi chapter, and a special thanks to Ro for being my beta and sticking with me - you're the best! Thanks for reading ^^

Yamaguchi Tadashi had a tumultuous childhood, to put it lightly. He spent his early years traveling with a caretaker whose name he never knew – not his father, he never knew his parents, just some stranger who took pity on a poor homeless boy – going between cities and towns and selling… something.

It was always something different, and his caretaker's name changed from city to city. He didn't really remember a time before the man.

When he thought back on his childhood, before Redcliffe everything seems a bit like a blur.

There were few consistencies. He remembered not being welcome in whatever town they were at – those who walked past his caretaker's shop would spit and mutter "swindler." Yamaguchi didn't know what it meant at the time.

He always wore poor clothes, ones that were half worn out before he even got them, because it made him look "more convincing," according to his caretaker. He would be toted about, and the people would be asked how they could ever pass up helping this poor child, how difficult it was to support a young growing boy when you had no home…

Before too long, though, they were always run out of the town, chased with accusations of things like "charlatan!" and "liar!"

Since the titles of charlatan and swindler were the only consistent ones his caretaker was referred to, his "name" changing with every place they went, Yamaguchi started to think of him by those names. He was young, though, and couldn't quite grasp their proper forms, and ended up calling his caretaker Sharla Swindu in his head.

His own name, at least, remained consistent. Yamaguchi Tadashi. That was him. But it didn't hold much meaning, as Sharla only called him that when they were trying to sell something to a customer. If it was just the two of them, Yamaguchi was nothing more than "boy."

And it was constantly driven into this boy's skull that their next meal depended on him playing a convincing role, or staying quiet, or not drawing the wrong kind of attention.

As Yamaguchi grew older, he shot up like a beansprout, ran through his already-half-worn-out clothes even faster, and Sharla Swindu started to get meaner.

"Stay here, out of sight, or you won't eat tonight, boy."

"You've grown so fast, you're getting to be more trouble than you're worth."

"You move around too much, I can't feed you enough to keep the 'cute' pudge on your face. What's the point of keeping you around if you're going to be all gangly?! No one takes pity on a gangly child. They want a _baby_."

Yamaguchi could feel that something was coming, though he wasn't sure what it was.

It really shouldn't have been a surprise when it came. He should have known.

The last time Yamaguchi Tadashi saw Sharla Swindu, it was at a farmstead just outside of Redcliffe Village.

 

…

"You stay quiet, here, boy, and don't you dare draw any attention. If you ruin this deal for me, you'll get nothing to eat til the next one."

Yamaguchi nodded, and didn't mind the dirty finger pointed close to his face. By this point, he knew the deal. He was eight years old, and understood perfectly well: he was to hide out in the back, behind the barn, and not draw any attention to himself.

Any attention is bad attention on days like this.

He would hide out and wait, and it might be hours, but when Sharla Swindu returned, he would take them somewhere relatively dry and maybe even warm, and they'd share a bit of food from what he'd managed to make that day.

And then they'd move on to the next town before they realized that whatever it was they had bought was a sham.

It was just like every other time, except Yamaguchi had a gnawing feeling in his gut, and something was off in the way Sharla Swindu looked down at him.

But Yamaguchi still nodded, and hid behind the barn, and waited, careful not to draw any attention, not even from the animals.

 

…

At least a full day had passed, and Yamaguchi had seen neither hide nor hair of Sharla Swindu. When it began to get dark and cold, he had risked sneaking into the barn, and spent the night curled up in the straw amongst the animals' heat.

"C'mon, let's get them animals out to graze."

The voice startled Yamaguchi from his fitful sleep, and his heart pounded at the sound.

After years of having it driven into him, even the thought was terrifying: he couldn't draw attention to himself. He couldn't be noticed.

Without a second thought for the rough straw clinging to his clothes, or the half-broken boot whose sole flapped lightly when he walked, Yamaguchi snuck back out of the barn through a hole he'd found in one of the empty stalls near the back, and ran until he was certain he was out of sight.

Sharla Swindu wasn't coming back this time. There was something cold and hollow in his gut that confirmed it.

He didn't know if Sharla had been caught, or if he had simply found a better deal, or perhaps moved on and just left Yamaguchi behind, but he knew he wasn't going to stick around to be found himself.

He couldn't draw attention, but he had to find a way to eat, to survive. He needed a place that would offer warmth in the nights, and safety from the harsh winds that blew in from the lake. A place with a lot of structures, and people, where a single raggedy boy wouldn't be minded.

Redcliffe Village wasn't too far off, and if Sharla Swindu were anywhere, he was probably there. A little part of Yamaguchi held out the hope that he would find him, that Sharla would take him back.

The realistic part of himself whispered that he'd been caught, and Yamaguchi was better off without him.

With purpose, Yamaguchi began to hike towards Redcliffe Village.

 

…

When he first entered Redcliffe Village, sneaking around buildings and being certain to stay out of sight, Yamaguchi remembered thinking it was beautiful.

The snows had melted and there were already grass and wildflowers growing, blooming. The grasses were tall, and if Yamaguchi crouched, he could easily hide in them. And the wildflowers that splattered the green with spots of yellow swayed gently in the breeze, and smelled sweet.

It seemed as good a place as any to strike out on his own.

The beauty was deceiving though, and the nights were even colder next to the lake than they were out at the farmstead. Yamaguchi found himself chilled to the bone, even when he could find a good alleyway where he could curl up against the back of a chimney in a building, and leech what heat he could, shielded from the winds.

That first night was spent shivering and uncomfortable, and not just because of the drop in his heart when he couldn't find any sign of Sharla Swindu.

 

…

With some strategic thievery, and staying out of sight, Yamaguchi managed not to be seen or attract attention for the first two days.

But he'd started to notice something: Redcliffe's children seemed to be rather well cared for. He wasn't even certain if there _were_ any orphans, all of the kids his age and younger wearing patched up clothes, running around laughing, playing in the grass.

Yamaguchi would stick out like a sore thumb if he were noticed. His shirt was threadbare, and his pants weren't much better off, with the bottom edges fraying and torn. One of his boots had started to crack across the bottom, and his other had a sole that was half-detached from the boot, and flapped lightly when he walked.

If Yamaguchi hadn't been meant to play the "poor, poor homeless boy" for Sharla, he might have had boots and clothes that were at least halfway decent.

But as it stood, everything was scavenged from the dumpsters, stuff that the homeless in other cities didn't even want, and Yamaguchi matched them perfectly.

He was small, and hungry, and exhausted. And he wasn't exactly clean, either.

His clothes were starting to smell after sleeping outside in them for a few nights, and he felt slightly itchy all over.

It really wasn't any surprise that he drew attention, even if it was just from others near his own age.

 

…

He had been walking toward the lake, wondering whether or not the water would be too cold to, at least, wash his hands and face in, when he was approached by three larger children.

Not that it was difficult to be a child larger than Yamaguchi. He was small for his age, and tended to curl in on himself when he was nervous, to boot.

He felt like curling in on himself now, as he glanced out of the corner of his eye at the two boys and tall girl who approached him, none of them looking altogether pleasant.

"Hey! Who's that?" The larger boy called out, and when Yamaguchi glanced back, he saw a fat finger pointed directly at him.

His heart started to pound with the fear of drawing attention, and he walked a little faster, changing his route so he wouldn't be cornered by the lake's edge. He had hoped that if he didn't engage with them, they might leave him alone.

Of course he had no such luck.

"He's running away!"

"Catch him!!"

Yamaguchi hadn't looked back when he heard them shout behind them. He broke into a dead run, not sure where he was going, but certain he didn't want those shouting kids to catch him. He heard them continue to yell at each other over the slap of his ratty boots against the muddy grass, and he shifted his path so he was running further into the village.

Being in public, to a certain degree, meant safety. Even if you weren't part of that group itself, a fight would usually be broken up just to abate the minds of those who did live there.

His heart was racing in his chest as he looked around wildly, searching for a place to hide. He had been moving so quickly he didn't notice where the muddy grass had turned slick and smooth, and had no warning before he was sent skidding across the grass toward a fresh muddy patch.

He flailed as he went down with a heavy _spluck_.

Well. If he hadn't been dirty before, he certainly was now.

He had mud splattered across his face and in his hair, but had somehow managed to avoid faceplanting directly into the mess. When he had fallen, he'd nearly crashed into a pile of old boxes, and scrabbled behind them as quickly as he could.

He waited, quietly, behind the boxes, praying that the others wouldn't notice his boot still stuck firmly in the mud, left behind in his scramble.

Yamaguchi only had moments to wait with bated breath before he was found, the three children looking down at him as they charged forward. They stopped just a few feet away, and they towered over him where he lay, sprawled in the mud.

Looking up at the boys and the tall girl, Yamaguchi felt as if his years of anxiety over being shunted from place to place and constantly directed to, at all costs, never draw any attention to himself, built up at once in his chest and was getting ready to burst.

"Ahah! Now we've got you," the youngest boy crowed, a triumphant finger pointed directly at Yamaguchi's terrified face, where he was laid vulnerable across the ground in front of them.

He should have known he had had no hope of outrunning those long legs of the girl's. Even if he wasn't on the ground, she would have towered over him anyway.

"You look like you've got dirt all over your face! It's gross!" The thickset boy shouted with an ugly laugh. His hands were placed on his hips and his head was thrown back as he laughed. Yamaguchi cringed back at the loud noise and curled into himself.

As the booming laughter stopped, Yamaguchi attempted to speak up, but found his voice cracked and his nose ran. He couldn't play "poor little orphan boy" to get out of a mess this time.

"I-it's not dirt…," he managed to mumble, suddenly self-conscious as well as nervous. "They're fr-freckles."

His eyes darted between the three kids towering over him as they continued. It was as if they hadn't even heard him… which they very well might not have.

Yamaguchi was quiet and shy on the best of days. Being cornered by what looked like three older children was not helping matters.

"I bet he smells, too," the girl sneered, showing off her gapped front teeth. She crinkled up her nose and shook her head, making her choppy blonde locks fly about. "Peee-ew!" she said and pretended to plug her nose.

Yamaguchi wasn't quite sure when he'd started crying, but there was no denial of the tears that welled up in his eyes. He had no idea what to do… he had no one to call out to help from. He'd been left all alone, and he couldn't take care of himself, no matter how hard he'd tried.

"You think if we tried with something sharp, we could scrape the spots off?" The smaller boy asked, idly scratching at his chin. Yamaguchi wouldn't be scared of him at all, he looked like he was roughly the same size as Yamaguchi himself, if not smaller, but the words that came out of his mouth… Yamaguchi paled at the thought.

"P-pl-please don't," he begged, and attempted to hold back the tears. "They would-wouldn't come off, I pr-promise." He sniffed loudly to stop his face from getting any grosser, already covered in dirt, mud, and now tears too.

"Well _I_ think we should give it a try!" The girl declared, looming in closer to him. Yamaguchi's eyes flicked between the girl, whose face was now directly in front of his, and the two boys, just behind her. Even if he could get a proper running start, there was no way he'd escape. The larger one had walked over to some broken down boxes nearby.

He wasn't going to get out of this one so easily, or maybe at all, he worried with a whimper.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a new voice growled out, and Yamaguchi's gaze flicked up to a third boy who hadn't been there just a moment before. He was a blond boy, and tall, towering over the large boy who was near the boxes, glaring down at him menacingly.

Yamaguchi wasn't sure if he should be thankful someone else showed up, or scared that the new person seemed mean, too.

A bit of both seemed a reasonable response. He hoped he wouldn't wet his pants on top of everything else.

He risked a glance up at the other two, and saw that their gazes were locked on the newcomer as well.

For a few, tense moments, everything seemed to be at a standstill. Nobody moved, and Yamaguchi felt frozen to the spot while he looked on, helpless.

With a scowl, the larger boy stepped away from the boxes, kicking them roughly. "I never wanted to see it anyway, I bet he'd smell even worse," he huffed, sticking his tongue out with a grimace.

Yamaguchi had become so tense, he didn't even realize what the other boy was talking about at first. Before he could, though, the blond had shifted his gaze over to where the other two bullies were watching apprehensively.

He hardly seemed to blink as he stared them down, not saying a single word.

That day, Yamaguchi learned how powerful silence was as the girl shoved at the smaller boy's shoulder and started walking away to the sound of the blond muttering against their retreating backs.

"Pathetic."

…

The blond kid walked over to Yamaguchi, with an arm held out to help him up. Yamaguchi was nervous, and still not sure what to think about the other boy, but… he seemed pretty alright so far.

He _had_ kind of saved him, after all.

Yamaguchi scrubbed a wrist underneath his running nose, then reached forward and let the other boy help him up.

He was still covered in dirt, and mud, and it looked like he'd only contributed to the small puddle of wet _muck_ behind him on the grass.

Yamaguchi hoped the blond didn't think he'd wet his pants, or anything embarrassing like that. (He had come close, but he _hadn't_.)

Because being found cornered by bullies and covered in mud was bad enough, but wetting your pants was a new kind of low for _any_ eight year old.

The other kid was tall, and Yamaguchi felt like he barely came up to the blond's chest.

Yamaguchi hunched as he walked back around the boxes to his boot, and tried to pull it loose. The blond didn't say anything as he worked at this endeavor, just looked on impassively.

After about five minutes and some exhausted panting to go along with his weak little grunts, Yamaguchi decided to give up on it.

The boots had been falling apart anyway, he tried to rationalize. It wasn't much of a loss.

(It was a huge loss. That had been the boot with the sole still attached. At this point he _knew_ Sharla Swindu wasn't coming back, and that thought terrified him.)

The blond didn't make any comment about Yamaguchi's efforts, instead standing up from his slouch and jerking his head down the alleyway. "C'mon, let's get you to Takeda. He'll clean you up."

Yamaguchi had no idea who Takeda was, but figured he couldn't get in much more trouble than he already had. Perhaps Takeda was an older brother, or something. So long as he wasn't an adult, Yamaguchi felt like he could handle it.

He might have drawn attention from the kids in the village, but if he could still avoid the adults, he might be able to get by yet.

With a careful gaze upward, he mumbled his thanks, meeting the other kid's eyes through his lashes. "I'm Yamaguchi," he added, blinking up at his savior earnestly.

"Tsukishima," was the gruff response he got in return. Without another word, Tsukishima started walking away without looking back. Yamaguchi only realized he was supposed to follow when Tsukishima's pace slowed when he didn't move.

Yamaguchi walked along next to him, trying to sound out the new name. "Tsu- Tsu…ki… shi-…. Tsukki…," he stumbled over the sounds, knowing he had never been good at names or words. "Is it alright if I call you Tsukki?" He asked, looking up at the other boy.

"No. It's Tsuki _shima_."

…

When he realized they were headed toward the chantry, Yamaguchi started to panic anew. An adult would be bad enough, but the _chantry_? This Tsukishima was going to report him, get him taken to an orphanage, and Yamaguchi was _terrified_ of those places. Sure, he had never really had a good life with his caretaker, but it hadn't been _bad_ , and he had _stolen_ things! What if he got taken away to a jail cell? He couldn't go to jail!

Sharla had warned him specifically to be careful of the chantry, and the brothers and sisters within, who would know at sight that he was an offense in the Maker's eyes. He could never bring attention to himself, and a lost child, clearly uncared for, at the chantry? There were fewer places he would bring _more_ attention.

Before he could make a decision, however, it was made for him.

"Takeda!" Tsukishima called out, getting the attention of a young man hanging up laundry in the courtyard.

"Tsukishima! Where've you been?" Takeda set the laundry back into its basket, and turned around to face them. He looked nice enough, with short curly locks and large, kind eyes, but Yamaguchi had had a trying day, and nice looks could be deceiving. His kind voice didn't help Yamaguchi's heart from attempting to pound of his chest, either. He could barely hear what Tsukishima said next over the rushing of blood in his ears.

"Just out and about," Tsukishima hedged, and nudged at Yamaguchi's shoulder. Yamaguchi would have jumped, if every muscle weren't frozen in fear. "Found the terrible threesome up to no good."

When Takeda's gaze settled on him, Yamaguchi's eyes watered, and he barely breathed.

"Well, you two ought to get a bath, now, shouldn't you!" Takeda laughed, a warm smile shot in Yamaguchi's direction. "And don't try to fool me, I know you've been running through the grass again, you're itching," he scolded, shifting his gaze over to where Tsukishima had been absently scratching at the backs of his elbows.

"What?! I would _never_ ," Tsukishima cried out defensively, and even Yamaguchi could tell it was a blatant lie. But instead of rushing forward, cursing him out, or smacking him for having lied… Takeda just chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Either way, I want you both to take a bath. Once you're cleaned up, you can come back out here and help me with the laundry, and I'll tell your new friend how things work here in Redcliffe." And with that, Takeda's attention was back on the laundry, not even watching them as he moved to pick up another damp shirt.

Yamaguchi wasn't sure what to do with this type of interaction. He'd always been shunted away, once he'd grown out of most of his toddler cuteness. There was being fawned over by old women who couldn't have children of their own, and glared at by their husbands, or there was being kicked out of the way and spit at.

He'd never been kindly smiled at and offered a bath without any questions asked.

"C'mon," Tsukishima mumbled, and lightly pushed at Yamaguchi to get him moving again. "The baths are back here."

 

…

Tsukishima had expressed surprise when they took a bath, and after all the dirt had been washed from his face, Yamaguchi's freckles still remained.

When they got out, and Yamaguchi had reached for his threadbare shirt, Tsukishima had simply shook his head and stopped him. He felt more confused than grateful when a clean shirt and pair of pants were pressed into his arms, the fabric thick enough it was good for actually _wearing_ , and not just for being used as rags.

They were being so kind to him, what were they going to want him to do? Was he going to be sold as a slave? Have to clean the floors every day? They weren't going to _eat_ him, were they? He shivered as the thought crossed his mind, and pulled on the pants diligently.

No, no, they wouldn't eat him, he thought as he poked his head through the top of the shirt. This was _Redcliffe Village_. If he was going to be eaten by some crazy cult, he'd have to be further up in the mountains. That's where the really strange people stayed.

He threaded his arms through the sleeves and marveled at how much _warmer_ these clothes were, when he hadn't even been cold. It felt like there was actually something _on_ his body, separating him from the gentle brush of the breeze on his skin.

When they went back outside, Takeda gently explained how the chantry worked there at Redcliffe Village. No, he wasn't going to be eaten, he simply had to help out with the chores here and there, keep his sleeping space within the chantry clean, and try not to cause trouble.

Yamaguchi was good at not causing trouble, and keeping it quiet even when he did.

"We don't get shoes 'til winter, when we need them," Tsukishima explained when he led Yamaguchi through the chantry, pointing each of the rooms out as they passed them. "Because summer's plenty warm, so we just run around on the grass. Plus you'd probably grow out of them before winter, anyways."

Yamaguchi nodded dumbly, following Tsukishima further towards the back of the chantry, where a room filled with pallets in neat rows was.

"This is where I sleep," Tsukishima said, pointing to a pallet in the back, somewhat separated from the others. "There's an empty spot next to it that you can use."

 

…

When asked about where he came from, Yamaguchi fed them a half-true story about Sharla Swindu, a traveling peddler who had taken him in. He said that they had come to Redcliffe Village for a short stay, and his caretaker had gone to secure lodging, and then never returned. Tsukishima looked at him funny throughout, and later told him that he was too trusting to believe someone would have come back for him, but Takeda seemed to buy into the tale.

And for the next few years, Yamaguchi had a pretty good life.

He settled in on the pallet next to Tsukishima, and made fast friends with him. He never did learn to master his name, calling him Tsukki instead, but Tsukishima didn't seem to mind too much.

He didn't talk much, or spend time with the other children, instead favoring to stick close to Tsukishima's side.

He learned to feel safe, even comfortable, at Redcliffe Village. He would help Tsukishima with errands, and sometimes causing mischief throughout the village, trying to sneak up and surprise Ser Ukai. They would "help" the knights stand watch at the windmill, and race down the hill into the village at the end of the day, fighting over who was faster until one of them crashed into Takeda, more often than not.

Takeda proved to be as gentle and kind as he looked, though, and never scolded them too harshly, only making them help out with a few extra chores around the chantry. He even let Yamaguchi help him apply healing salves when some of the kids came in with skinned knees and scraped elbows, and praised Yamaguchi for having a knack for taking care of others.

Yamaguchi felt his chest swell with pride each time Takeda told him that.

 

…

It was when he had been at Redcliffe for a few years that Yamaguchi started to feel strange.

He would have days where it felt like his skin was tingling all over, like he was so full of energy he was going to burst, but no matter how much he chased Tsukishima or wrestled Ser Ukai he couldn't get rid of it. He would get physically exhausted, and lay on the ground panting, and still feel like his skin was crawling with some kind of energy. It kind of felt like how he imagined Tsukki felt after running through the grass, being itchy all over, but unable to stop no matter how much he scratched.

But even baths didn't get rid of the itch.

He had more nightmares, and instead of his usual dreams where he would wander throughout the various places he'd been, all meshed together like some strange quilt, gravity would get turned upside down and he'd float along, feeling lost and uncertain.

Sometimes someone would approach him in his dreams, always trying to sell him something, convince him to do something. He never said yes, though. After growing up with Sharla Swindu, he wasn't going to be sold anything he wasn't one hundred percent _certain_ he absolutely wanted and needed. No matter how the others tried to convince him, Yamaguchi never agreed.

His dreams started to get scarier, more like nightmares, and he would toss and turn, and go for a walk late at night, rather than sleep. He knew Tsukishima noticed his pallet was empty more often than not, but his friend never said anything.

Yamaguchi wasn't sure if he appreciated or hated that.

After a few weeks of running around, avoiding people, avoiding sleep, and just trying to figure out what was going on, Yamaguchi approached Tsukishima about it. If he had to keep it to himself for one more second, he felt like he would burst!

 

…

"Tsukki," he finally said one day as they were lying about on the straw bales by the windmill, "I feel… weird." He didn't have any other way to phrase it, really. "Weird" was the simplest way he could come up with explaining what he felt.

He felt like he was constantly itchy. He felt like his blood itself was thrumming. He felt the need to _do_ something, but he couldn't tell what. All in all, he felt strange, and restless, and he jiggled his leg impatiently as he stared at the sky and waited for a response from his best friend.

"If you're going to puke, do it in the weeds," Tsukishima mumbled, not shifting in the slightest.

"Not like that!" Yamaguchi shouted, rolling over enough to punch his friend in the shoulder. "It's a…," he paused, looking for the right words, but not finding any to use, "different weird."

"Huh?" Yamaguchi watched anxiously as Tsukishima furrowed his brow, and then suddenly snorted a laugh out his nose. Was what he was feeling _funny_ to Tsukishima? His friend wouldn't laugh at him, would he?  

"Ah. Yamaguchi, it's normal to grow hair there. Go ask Takeda, he'll explain it all to you," Tsukishima said simply, a grin on his face as he took a peek at Yamaguchi, who had started to turn red. "Don't ask Ukai though," he frowned, "because he just turns red and splutters for a few minutes. Bad decision." With that, Tsukishima closed his eyes once more, settled comfortably despite the rough straw that poked into both of their backs.

"Not like _that_ either, Tsukki!" Yamaguchi responded with a gentle smack to Tsukishima's shoulder. He sighed out a laugh, and looked at his friend with a grin spreading slowly across his face. "Did you ask Ser Ukai for the puberty talk, Tsukki?" He asked with a lilting tease.

Tsukishima started to turn red, and peeked at Yamaguchi once more with a frown. "Shut up."

"That's not a denial," Yamaguchi singsonged, grinning broadly now, and feeling extremely satisfied with his accomplishment. It was hard to get Tsukishima riled up, to embarrass him, and Yamaguchi thoroughly enjoyed doing it. It was fun.

Yamaguchi watched as Tsukishima's ears steadily turned redder, and knew the rest of his face wouldn't take long to follow.

With a quick movement, Tsukishima swung himself up against the straw, blinking wildly once he'd sat up. Yamaguchi tried to keep his grin down to a smile as Tsukishima glared at him with a threat.

"I will put you in a headlock I swear to the maker."

"Okay, okay! I'll stop," Yamaguchi promised, holding his hands up in defense. As he remembered why they'd started the conversation in the first place, though, he felt his smile drop. "I wasn't kidding, though. About feeling weird," he mumbled as he picked nervously at the hay and waited for a response.

Tsukishima gazed out at the knights, and Yamaguchi let out a sigh of relief that Tsukishima wouldn't force him to make eye contact.

"Well, I wasn't kidding about talking to Takeda, either," Tsukishima finally said, and Yamaguchi paused in his endeavors to see how many strips he could pull a single piece of hay apart into. "Even if it's not puberty, he's pretty good at knowing what to say."

Yamaguchi was still nervous about talking to adults, even Takeda, and wasn't fond of sharing personal details in general. There was something in the gut of his stomach that would never let go of the idea that he had reason to be running away, rather than staying here in Redcliffe. He felt like he didn't deserve the life he'd managed to end up with.

"Hm… alright. Maybe I will go talk to him… later, though," he finally said, nodding, knowing Tsukishima had been waiting for an answer. Not wanting the conversation to continue, or for himself to be the point of attention, Yamaguchi launched himself at his friend, throwing his arms around Tsukishima's chest and wrestling him to the ground.

Once he was sitting firmly on top of Tsukishima's chest, Yamaguchi grinned triumphantly down at him. "Now, did you _really_ ask _Ser Ukai_ for the puberty talk? He may know his weapons, but he can barely even _look_ at Takeda without turning red! He is so _clearly_ not the one to ask about that, Tsukki."

 

…

It was a few days later when Yamaguchi finally worked up the courage to go and talk to Takeda, and tell him about his worries. When Yamaguchi approached him, Takeda seemed to be expecting him, and he wondered briefly if Tsukishima might have said something.

But no, Tsukishima was good at keeping secrets, and he wouldn't betray Yamaguchi like that.

Yamaguchi was still nervous though, and he shuffled his feet anxiously as he told Takeda about how he'd felt the last few weeks. The tingling, the itch under his skin that he just couldn't scratch, the strange dreams. All of it.

He didn't know what he expected Takeda to do, but it hadn't been for his mouth to fall open into a small 'o' and for him to draw Yamaguchi into a tight hug, with murmurs that it was going to be alright.

That only worried Yamaguchi more. (Though the hug _was_ nice.)

You only said it was going to be alright if things _weren't_ alright as they were.

 

…

He didn't share his worries with Tsukishima, but it was only a week or so later that the templars showed up. Takeda had quietly explained to him that he was a mage, and that the strange tingle he'd been feeling was his magic waking up, and sometimes that happened during puberty, and it was nothing to be worried about too much.

(So, in a way, Yamaguchi had gone in to get the puberty talk from Takeda. It was just as uncomfortable as he'd feared.)

Takeda had told him that he needed to go to the Circle, where he would learn how to safely control his magic, and be protected. Takeda didn't say what he was being protected from, though, carefully skirting around the topic. Yamaguchi feared it was from himself.

He didn't want to be a mage. But apparently, like so much else in his life, that wasn't up to him.

He didn't tell Tsukishima about his conversation with Takeda, just told him that he'd talked to the man. He was afraid. He wasn't sure how to tell Tsukishima he was going to be leaving soon, and he didn't want to tell his best friend he was a mage. What if Tsukishima didn't like him anymore? People were kind of afraid of mages, it seemed… what if Tsukishima was afraid of him now, too?

He didn't want to leave at all. He wished things could just have stayed how they were.

But before he knew it, the templars were there, and he didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to his best friend. Takeda had packed up his things and sent him off with the scary, heavily armed men, had assured him that all would be fine.

All didn't _feel_ fine. Everything felt wrong, in fact, and now Yamaguchi had missed his opportunity to even say goodbye to Tsukishima.

He was starting to regret everything. He should have never told Tsukishima, even, that he was feeling strange. He shouldn't have drawn any attention to himself.

He should have known better.

Takeda had said he'd probably like it at the Circle. That he would find new friends there, that they would understand what he felt, and help him learn how to master it.

But Yamaguchi didn't want someone who understood what he felt. He didn't care about learning how to "master" the itchy sensation under his skin. He just wanted his best friend, and his awkward attempts to help him, and their stupid wrestling matches, and their races down the hill.

He didn't want to leave, but he wasn't exactly given a choice.

 

…

Yamaguchi didn't like the Circle at first. It was strange, and different, and he missed those who had become his family at Redcliffe. He missed his best friend. He missed who he had been at Redcliffe – it wasn't the same at the Circle. Yamaguchi didn't feel like himself.

Yamaguchi the mage wasn't Yamaguchi the kid. Just as much as Yamaguchi the kid hadn't been Yamaguchi the swindler.

He personally thought that Yamaguchi the kid was the best of the Yamaguchis.

But Yamaguchi the swindler knew how to adapt and thrive. So he learned to embrace it.

So he learned how to shift into playing Yamaguchi the mage, how to practice control over his magic, how not to draw the templars' attention too much. He was good at that last one. He'd had lots of practice at not drawing attention. He worked hard underneath his mentor's guidance, wanting Shimada to be proud of him.

He didn't have Takeda to be proud of him, not anymore. And he didn't have Sharla Swindu to yell at him, either. He didn't even have Tsukishima. But Shimada reminded him of Takeda, a little bit, and he really seemed to care, so Yamaguchi did his best, even though he wasn't that good at the different glyphs and charms.

Apparently having difficulty saying the complicated names and words of spells made them not-quite-work, most of the time. And having shaky, nervous hands, made drawing glyphs properly rather difficult. He heard stories of those who were especially talented, who did things off of instinct, who didn't need the names and titles to make the magic do what they wanted to…

But he wasn't one of them.

He was terrified when he went through his Harrowing. He was told about the Tranquil, and given the option to go through the Rite if he didn't think he could make it through his first time in the fade, but Yamaguchi was a stubborn kid. He refused to be coddled… even if he was scared shitless of the consequences. He just… had to not be possessed by a demon, right? That wasn't… impossible. Lots of people survived their Harrowing without becoming Tranquil.

He still nearly fainted in relief when he came out of the other side of the fade, intact and decidedly _not_ ripped of his emotions. Most of what he was feeling might have been sadness, but he didn't want to give them all up.

After having successfully completed his Harrowing, he was allowed to start working on more complex magic. Yamaguchi wasn't spectacular, but he wasn't mediocre either. He was just kind of average, no matter how hard he worked. It was frustrating to watch those around him light up as they learned to hit targets with sparks and ice, how to light torches with a flick of the wrist, how to play pranks on each other by hiding paralysis glyphs underneath the carpet by the door.

Then again, since Yamaguchi wasn't good enough at any of those things, he also wasn't getting in trouble for doing any of them. He didn't draw attention – even if, sometimes, he wished he did.

It was lonely, in the tower.

As the years went on, he learned he had a knack for healing magic, and supporting those around him. Shimada taught him how to seal up cuts and mend broken bones, how to send pulsing waves of energy out to those around him. He told Yamaguchi how he wasn't the kind of fighter who belonged on the front lines, but that that was alright.

Yamaguchi was the most important kind of fighter, Shimada explained: the kind who wasn't a fighter at all. He was a healer, the person who stayed in the back of the ranks, who helped patch up the warriors who returned weak and fatigued, who made it so that they could go out and fight once more.

And for Yamaguchi, he found that that was fulfilling enough.

 

…

It was when Yamaguchi was progressing into the more complex types of healing, the kinds of healing that worked on the soul and mind rather than just the body, that he was called up with a group of others to the First Enchanter's office.

The King was fighting a war, they were told. The battle was large, and vicious, and there were bound to be many wounded. Those who were there had been chosen to go forth to the battlefront, to strengthen the King's army. Most of them were experienced elemental mages, warriors in their own right who would be sent into the battle amongst the men and women of Ferelden.

But there were a few, like Yamaguchi, who weren't fighters at all, but healers. Who were to be sent not to the battlefront, but into the camp, to strengthen the King's army in an entirely different manner. They were needed at Ostagar, and so they were sent forth, with a large group of templars to keep an eye on them.

 

…

When the battle itself commenced, things did not go according to plan. Yamaguchi was startled when a young girl with bright orange hair ran into their camp, shouting that the darkspawn were coming.

The darkspawn? Coming here? But this was the army camp, not the battlefront, he had never been meant to fight, he was just a healer…!

The girl ran up to him and pulled him aside, explaining briefly that she was going to keep them hidden, and he must keep her strong. That hiding for lengthy periods of time was exhausting. That it was the only way they would survive.

They had but moments to hide, pulling themselves into a small space between some empty cages and a wall, the girl hurriedly whispering to Yamaguchi. She had an enchanted pendant, she explained, that would hide the wearer from the darkspawn, and she could hide him too, but it would take a lot of concentration and strength to activate it, and if she got too exhausted it would stop working. Yamaguchi nodded, immediately understanding, and mentally ran through each of the spells he knew to fight against exhaustion.

The girl curled up tight next to him and pulled the pendant out from beneath her shirt, her grip so tight on the small stone that her fingers turned white. Yamaguchi shivered as what felt like a soapy film washed over him, and blinked out at the horror in the camp, as if through a layer of silt. Unable to do anything but hold still, and pulse waves of energy into the girl, he was forced to watch in terror as the darkspawn came forth and decimated the camp.

Those who had tried to fight, died. Those who had tried to run were caught and killed. Many of those who had hidden were found, but for some reason, the darkspawn never ventured too closely to their hiding place. The battle felt like it raged on forever, but Yamaguchi knew it could only have been a few hours at most.

When it seemed as if everything else had crumbled around them, a voice called out through the camp, shouting a name. The girl ran out from their hiding spot, barreling into what could very well be a trap, a demon, a darkspawn with a clever voice, anything! The soapy film was broken as soon as she moved, and Yamaguchi gasped when the grisly camp seemed to suddenly be cast into vicious, vivid color. He stumbled forward, out of their hiding place, and tried to call out to her, stop her before she left, but couldn't act quickly enough.

When he emerged from their hiding place, he found her wrapped up in the arms of a bloodied young man with the same bright crop of orange hair on top. Standing next to him, with an angry looking face, was the grey warden mage that Yamaguchi had seen around camp. Kageyama, he distantly recalled, was his name. But Yamaguchi had hardly noticed what either of them looked like, far more focused on the man in templar armor right behind them.

He was staring, frozen, at someone he'd never thought he'd see again, clad in the bloodied armor of the templars, and though larger and older than he remembered, Yamaguchi would not have mistaken that face for anyone else.

"…Tsukki?"

 

…

They end up hiking away from the battlefield, away from the ruined camp, and into the wilds. Yamaguchi isn't particularly comfortable with that prospect, but they're stuck between a rock and a hard place: if it's a choice between the fabled chasind in the wilds and a horde of darkspawn, he'd pick the exiled mages any day.

Natsu, he learns, is the name of the young girl, and she introduces him to the rest of their motley crew. She starts with her brother, and when Tsukishima makes a rude comment about his skills, Yamaguchi's arm flies out to smack Tsukishima without his mind's consent.

It's the first time they've touched each other in over five years, this light and playful smack of knuckles against bare arm, and Yamaguchi gasps in shock at what he's just done as soon as he realizes it. A hand flies to his mouth, and with wide eyes he looks up at Tsukishima, afraid of his reaction.

They haven't seen each other for years.

Yamaguchi hadn't even said goodbye. Hadn't even told him _why_ , let alone that he was leaving at all.

He wouldn't blame Tsukishima in the slightest if he hated him. Most of the templars weren't exactly _friendly_ with the mages, and Yamaguchi wasn't sure that his past with this one would make it any different.

They stare awkwardly at each other for a moment, Tsukishima in surprise, Yamaguchi with wide eyes, before they both look away, anywhere _but_ each other.

The marsh here in the wilds is particularly… marshy this time of year, he finds himself thinking, staring at the wet ground. That's nice, he guesses, trying not to think about how Tsukishima had been marching with blood splattered across his face and his armor for most of the day, trying not to remember how Yamaguchi himself had been covered in mud the first time that they had met.

Then the angry grey warden sighs, pulls a hand across his face, and makes a comment about going to sleep, waking him if the darkspawn come too close.

Yamaguchi joins the others in gaping at him. How can he think of sleeping, at a time like this? Yamaguchi is so wound up from nerves and the events of the day, that he doesn't think he could sleep for at least another week.

Kageyama makes a face at the others, snapping at all of them, "I literally perform blood-letting rituals to do my magic, can you blame me if I'm exhausted? I'm traveling with blasted demons, no manners," he grumbles to himself, taking a few steps away from the marshy ground and curling up into a ball.

Yamaguchi can't help himself: his gaze flicks over to Tsukishima, his eyes wide, and he addresses him for the first time since he'd said his friend's name. "You're traveling with a _blood mage_?"

Tsukishima frowns, then shrugs, looking at a place just above Yamaguchi's left shoulder as he responds. "It's not ideal, but he saved my life, so I'll let it go for tonight. He's a grey warden, too – surely you heard about him in the camp?"

When Tsukishima finishes, he finally looks at Yamaguchi, and Yamaguchi averts his gaze just as quickly, feeling skittish under the new information. Sure, he had known that Kageyama was a mage, and a grey warden, and had been curious about how that had happened, but part of staying out of trouble and escaping notice was to _not_ be found listening to gossip around the fire, and to have a templar simply _traveling_ with a blood mage rather than apprehending him…

The entire idea boggles Yamaguchi's mind, but tries to put it aside, something else nagging at him.

Had Tsukishima said Kageyama was a grey warden, _too_? As in Tsukishima was a grey warden as well? Not only a templar, but a grey warden, and Yamaguchi can't help but feel uncomfortable with how much has changed since he last saw his best friend.

Again, his mind echoes back at him: is he even your best friend anymore?

Of course he is, he snaps back at himself, afraid to think of any other option, and clenching his shaking hands into fists.

When Yamaguchi returns from the depths of his thoughts, Natsu's older brother, Hinata, Yamaguchi thinks his name was, is saying something to Tsukishima, but he doesn't quite register what is being said.

Hinata pulls Natsu further against his side, and they both move toward a drier patch of ground, and he can't help but watch them as they whisper to each other.

He jumps when Tsukishima nudges his shoulder, and follows when he motions with a jerk of his head a few paces away from the others.

"We've got first watch," is all he says as way of explanation, and Yamaguchi dumbly nods, sitting next to him on a rock hard log in silence. The Wilds must really be old, if there's petrified wood this large just hanging around.

He doesn't really know what to say. Is this even the time and place to talk? Yamaguchi would have probably fretted into the night if Tsukishima hadn't murmured something to break his thoughts.

"So… you're a mage now, huh?" He asks awkwardly, and Yamaguchi can't help the little sigh of relief that escapes him. At least he doesn't have to start the conversation.

"So, you're a templar now, huh?" He asks back when he finally finds his voice, following Tsukishima's lead and keeping it down to a quiet almost-whisper.

"And grey warden, yeah," Tsukishima adds with a chuckle. When Yamaguchi chances a look up at him, he's got a wry smile creeping onto his face, and Yamaguchi answers why a shy smile of his own.

"Been keeping busy, it seems," he says simply, thinking about how much has changed. Tsukishima is a templar. A grey warden. Yamaguchi's a healer, a mage.

Everything is different.

"I can hear you thinking from here, just spit it out," Tsukishima scoffs, throwing an arm around Yamaguchi's shoulders and pulling him in tight.

Okay, it seems like _some_ things are still the same, Yamaguchi thinks, allowing himself to lean in to the comforting hold.

"Everything's changed, hasn't it?" He whispers, voicing all his fears and worries in one simple question. He stares down at his hands in his lap as the question hangs in the air, tracing nonsense patterns across his own palm as he waits.

"Yeah," Tsukishima finally sighs out, and Yamaguchi can't help but tense. "But you're alive, and I'm alive, and we're still best friends, so it's not all bad." When Yamaguchi doesn't answer immediately, too awash with relief, Tsukishima tenses up behind him.

"We're still best friends, right?"

Yamaguchi exhales a laugh, feels himself smiling despite their long day, and looks up at Tsukishima. "Yeah, we're still best friends."

 

…

Those first few hours, while they watched the night, they talked about everything and nothing. Tsukishima told him how he'd become a templar, then joined the wardens, figuring he might as well, and mostly because he was asked.

Tsukishima is nothing if not loyal, Yamaguchi thinks with a smile. He should have never doubted him.

Yamaguchi tells Tsukishima about the first time he went to the Circle, going through his Harrowing, coming out the other side, terrified but successful. Sucking at pretty much all types of magic, but being pretty good at healing people. Finding his niche.

He carefully avoids talking about the templars, not sure how Tsukishima will react, and not wanting to talk about the bad parts of growing up apart from each other. Tsukishima doesn't need to know about the fear that he is constantly facing. He never told Tsukishima about it as a kid, and he isn't about to start now.

When he carefully puts forth the idea of joining the wardens as well, Tsukishima reacts violently, turning toward him and firmly saying that he _will not_.

Yamaguchi never liked being told what to do, and he huffs out a breath through his nose, turning his stubborn gaze up at his friend. "And why not, huh? It's not like a mage can't do it – look at Kageyama!" He argues, all the while feeling uncertain, but not letting that show. Kageyama was a blood mage, and Yamaguchi isn't sure _how_ that affects the process, but he's sure it means _something_.

"Kageyama's…. different!" Tsukishima grouses, throwing his arms up in frustrating. "Besides, the Joining is dangerous, and the veil has been torn so you'd run higher risk of possession, and we don't even have the Joining chalice anyways, so that's that!" He finishes off his ramble with a tone of finality, glaring down at Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi folds his arms and glares right back up at him. "It's always dangerous, and I risk demonic possession just by _living_ , Tsukki," he argues back, voice heated as he knocks Tsukishima's points down one by one, "and if the chalice was anything special, it'd have to have been extremely old. I bet it didn't even do anything, it's probably just symbolic anyways."

Tsukishima sighs, and his glare softens. "Yamaguchi," he starts, softly, and Yamaguchi knows he's serious, "I understand the rite of tranquility and believe it's necessary. I would be bound by my templar oaths to employ it should something go awry, and that’s a best case scenario. I would be _loath_ to have to perform it on my best friend."

Yamaguchi feels like he's been socked in the chest, and pulls his gaze back to his lap, unable to look at his friend anymore. How can he believe in the rite of tranquility? Sure, he's a templar, so Yamaguchi supposes that he has to know how to perform it and all, but… he's seen so many of his friends at the Circle, those who didn't pass their harrowing, those who couldn't make it… they're not the same person, after. _He_ wouldn't be the same.

It wouldn't even just be another type of Yamaguchi. He wouldn't be Yamaguchi at all, not if he became Tranquil.

"Look, it's not _necessary_ for you to perform the Joining in order to join us and battle against the blight, right?" Tsukishima's voice has taken on a begging tone, and Yamaguchi feels like he has to swallow his heart when he feels his hands being held by larger palms, long skinny fingers, cradling him as if he were something delicate. "There'll always be at least one actual grey warden around you to sense darkspawn, you won't be directly in the brunt of fighting whenever possible, you don't _have_ to be a grey warden, do you?"

When Yamaguchi finally glances up at Tsukishima, he finds eyes that are soft and pleading, worry painted all across his face. It's clear that there's something Tsukishima isn't saying – something that he's keeping from him, but Yamaguchi is almost afraid to ask what.

Maybe a few little white lies between friends is alright.

After all, it's not like he's been completely honest from the start, either.

"Alright, Tsukki," he finally says, rubbing his thumb against the palm cradling his own. "Alright. I'll be the healer – but I'm not letting you out of my sight."

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I've mentioned it elsewhere yet, but sometimes I do art based on scenes from these fics! Come visit me over at cloudmonstachopper on tumblr, and check out the tag "vball-babs-origins" if you'd like to see it! Next up, we return to our main story with more of their adventures! Please leave a comment and/or kudos if you are enjoying the story, I really do love hearing what you think ^^


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